


Stag Do

by mina_roman



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Multi, Other, POV Ron Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29634729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mina_roman/pseuds/mina_roman
Summary: The night before his wedding, Harry and the Weasley brothers organize for Ron his stag do. He probably drinks too much, but will he make his wedding on time, and ahem, sober?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 20
Kudos: 26





	1. The Lady Luck

**Author's Note:**

> This three part series begins, well at the beginning. Part 2 is coming up soon!

“Come on!” Harry tugged Ron’s shirt, who was busy giving Hermione one last kiss before heading to his stag do. Harry, being the best man, had of course organised a night for Ron with the company of the Weasley brothers before the wedding tomorrow. Who would have ever thought that the boy Hermione Granger had once accused of having the emotional range of a teaspoon would become a man with the biggest heart and devotion to his bride-to-be?

“Oi!” Yelled George, “Shall we wait until the grass grows? Bloody prat isn’t married yet and he can’t even bring himself to leave for a night.”

“Hermione, we need to get going with our own festivities!” Ginny shot her a reproachful look. With everyone pressing them to say good-bye, Ron and Hermione let go of each other’s hands.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Ron, shooting one last longing look at his fiancé before Ginny promptly slammed the door on him. Ron walked in step with Harry to join his brothers, who were all gathered at the Burrow’s garden entrance. 

“You know, for someone who’s about to be having a stag do, you’d think we were dragging you to Azkaban!” smirked Bill.

“Shut up,” retorted Ron, his ears flaring. He knew he would have fun tonight, but his stomach was in knots because he didn’t want Hermione to think he was thinking of it as his last night of freedom. It was far from that – in fact, the opposite. He could not wait to be husband and wife, joined for the rest of their lives. The first year after the war had been spent discovering how the line they had danced around for six years had only needed a nudge. That nudge ended up being the last battle where he was not sure if there would come an after. But once the threshold had been crossed, it was easy. They were best friends and knew everything about the other, the only thing that had been missing was their openness for their romantic feelings. It had been frustrating that they had finally confessed and yet, had never spent so much time apart, with Hermione being at Hogwarts for her N.E.W.T.s and Ron starting his Auror training. The separation had only delayed what he had known for years: that he would not be able to live without her and he wanted to be her husband. Now, at twenty, they were finally about to get married. Blood hell I was a prat for not doing this sooner, Ron thought to himself. He had wanted to propose as soon as she’d graduated but wanted to save up so they could get their own place and move out from Grimmauld place with Harry.

“Ron!” shouted Harry, irritated, as Ron shook off his thoughts.

“What?” asked Ron.

“We’ve asked Madam Rosmerta to keep the Three Broomsticks to ourselves for ten thirty. But first, George wants to take us to a muggle pub” said Harry.

“Oh er, okay, but why?” asked Ron, ogling George suspiciously.

“Don’t worry, little brother” said George, “all in good time!”

“Are we ever gonna get going?” said Charlie, eager to begin the festivities.

“Yeah! I know the place we need to apparate to. I already told Percy to meet us there when he finishes work. Hold on to me,” instructed George, extending his arm out. Ron, Harry, Bill and Charlie grabbed George and felt the familiar lurch as the Burrow faded out of eyesight and they were suddenly standing in a quiet cobbled street which glistened with the remnants of an evening’s shower. 

“This way!” George led the group from the black alley and onto the high street. Despite the shops being dark and empty, the air trickled with excitement as people laughed and chatted merrily. The atmosphere tinged with alcohol and the bustle of blokes and girls heading to pubs and bars disregarding the lingering cool brought about by the earlier rain. Ron looked around certain he had never been here before. He glanced at the others who looked to share his thought.

“Aha! Here it is,” beamed George, holding out the door to a pub whose sign read Lady Luck and ushering them in. Ron followed in last with Harry and spun his head around to get a good look at the walls painted a violent red with chalkboards showing drink menus. They had to squirm past people to make their way through, looking for the bobbing redheads up ahead. 

“They’re records,” explained Harry, noticing Ron staring at the black round circles mounted on the walls, “they are used to play music. Well not so much anymore. They were played on record players.”

“Whoa, music comes out of that?” said Ron amazed. 

“Over here!” called George. Next to him and the Weasleys were Neville, Dean and Seamus. They were standing over at a large booth that ran around the corner towards the back of the room. They all sat down except for Bill and Charlie who went to the bar to order some drinks.

Ron’s eyes widened. He hadn’t seen his fellow Gryffindors for well over a year. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world!” exclaimed Neville.

“You and Granger, eh? Took you long enough!” laughed Seamus, shaking his head grinning.

“Ron getting married and doing karaoke!” joined in Dean, also laughing.

“Kara-what?” asked Ron, confused.

“Well, that was the surprise!” said George, “that’s why I brought you to this muggle pub, they have karaoke nights and we’ll be participating! After a few rounds, of course.” He winked at Ron with a mischievous grin. Ron turned to Harry, who shrugged his shoulders and gave him a look that said I-thought-it-would-be-fun. Ron was not sure what their intentions for him were. He knew that if it was even remotely embarrassing, he would not do it unless he was fully inebriated. In that moment, Bill and Charlie arrived with two trays full of glasses in different sizes and colours having anticipated Ron’s hesitation. Bill carried drinks resembling butterbeer, while Charlie had an assortment of potion-looking ones, but the alcohol tinge stemmed from each one. Ron could almost feel the burn in his nostrils reach the back of his throat. Although the party comprised only of eight of them, there were at least two dozen drinks. Bill distributed a pint to each, and Charlie passed around the shot glasses.

“Will you explain what the bloody hell this car-oh-key nonsense is?” asked Ron.

“Karaoke. It’s a muggle thing so people go up to the stage and singalong to songs, the lyrics are on a screen and you just follow the beat,” explained Harry, “I haven’t ever done it, and I know this would not be something you’d be up for but –”

“I convinced Harry and the others to give it a try!” interrupted George, “once Ronniekins is plastered out of his mind, we know it would be a good laugh!”

Ron’s face fell. No way, he was not going up to sing. He had never sung! He was just about to retort and say they should just go to the Three Broomsticks for butterbeer when Bill, reading Ron’s face, stepped in.

“Listen,” said Bill, “Apparently had the circumstances been different, this would have been my stag do as well.” He looked at George and nudged him to explain further.


	2. Karaoke

Ron and the others rounded on George curious to know where this idea had stemmed from.

“Fred and I…” he started, looking away from them, “Well, we apparated to this town once. We were walking down the high street and saw this place. More like heard it, actually. People were rowdy and having a good time! We weren’t about to pass up on fun! And by Merlin it was! We had some drinks and Fred, well you know how he was, went straight up and sang! Terrible though I thought he’d be, the crowd cheered and loved him. It was a great laugh! After that, he and I thought that we’d come here all of us together after the…” He trailed off, as his shoulders slouched and looking up at his brothers, a small half-smile creeping on his face, his eyebrows furrowing, and his eyes restraining the tears that threatened to overspill.

“Fred would have loved this,” said Ron, remembering his brother’s grin and twinkling eyes, “he would have loved embarrassing me and putting me on the spot.”

“He did it to get you out of your comfort zone, you know?” smiled Bill, “He just wanted you to get comfortable in your own skin.”

“And he knew you and Hermione were meant to be,” said Charlie, “In his letters he would complain to me how you were a git for not acting sooner and making the first move. And he called you a bloody idiot for the whole Lavender fiasco, too.”

Ron’s throat constricted as he reminisced over his late brother. Two years later and his absence was never felt more than when all the Weasley boys were together. George had gotten better; the first months had been the hardest. The joke shop had been his and Fred’s dream. All their dreams had always been shared. Their whole life they had shared, since the time in their mother’s womb. Ron took the shot that Charlie had handed to him and raised his arm. They all followed his lead, and Ron toasted, “for Fred.” They took the shot welcoming the burn.

“So, who’s gonna go up first?” asked Neville, breaking the silence while everyone remembered Fred’s charisma and impact in their lives.

“Not me!” said Ron, “I will, just give me a few minutes.”

Seamus stood up, knocking back another shot glass, this one tinted gold. Ron wished that were Liquid Luck because if so, he would feel brave enough to go up.

“I’ll do it!” said Seamus, “I know a couple from me da’s music collection!”

Ron shot a look at Harry and laughed. He needed to loosen up and enjoy the night his best mate and brothers had planned for him. He sipped his beer but scowled at the taste.

“Ugh!” he exclaimed, “I wish we had butterbeer! This is so bitter! How can muggles drink this?”

“You get used to the taste,” said Bill, “It’s really not so bad. Plus, it’s not as strong as those shots Charlie got for us. It makes it easier to pace yourself, so you don’t get drunk so quickly.”

“No, Ron, drink up!” Charlie handed Ron another shot, “This is your night, and you are meant to get wasted!”

“I don’t think Hermione will be too happy if he misses their wedding,” muttered Harry.

“On three!”

They all downed another. This time, Ron grimaced. Whatever his first shot had been had definitely been better, this one had a distinct taste.

“Tequila,” winked Charlie.

Slowly, but surely, time went by as indicated by the number of songs that had been played. Ron began bobbing his head along to the beat even when the singing had been terrible. His face was hot, and he did not stop grinning. This was fun. This was a night out with his mates. Tomorrow he’d be married. Hermione! He wished she were with him. He had never seen Hermione get drunk. Hermione had never seen him drunk! _Am I drunk now?_ he thought.

“Harry,” said Ron, attempting to poke his best mate in the arm but missing it by a few inches, “How do I know if I’m drunk?”

Charlie and George exchanged glances and laughed. It had taken various rounds of drinks to notice the effect of the alcohol on their brother. Charlie had definitely started feeling _happy_ a while ago, and George, well George could hardly stand up from the booth if he tried. Neville had tried pacing himself after he had knocked over a few glasses accidentally. Seamus had been eager to go back up to the stage after his first round, but he felt the drinks had encouraged him since he had not received any applause the first time. Dean was no better, he wanted to do a duet with Seamus and were waiting for their turn. Bill had felt slightly guilty that his mother had insisted he be the voice of reason and prevent them all from becoming completely wasted, but with each passing drink his mother’s words went further to the back of his mind.

“Ron Weasley,” someone called from the stage.

“Ron, it’s your turn!” Harry nudged him. Ron stumbled out of the booth feeling brave. He did a small jog up to the front and followed what he’d seen Seamus and the others do. Taking the mic in his hands, he faced the crowd. It was nowhere near as busy as the Quidditch matches would have been when he played as Keeper, but he was much closer to people where he could see expectant faces looking up at him. Normally this would have caused him to panic, but nothing fazed him right now.

The music began to play and on the little screen to the side he began to read the words trying to follow the words as they coloured up in green to indicate when to sing. A guitar strummed an intro as the drums joined in.

“25 years and my life is still,” Ron said dryly. His throat was constricted despite all the drinks he’d had. He missed a couple of words as he cleared his throat and gulped down some of his beer. The words flowed more smoothly. George let out a big “WHOO!” and Harry whistled at him.

As he got into the rhythm, Ron gained even more confidence and swayed sideways. The bright lights beaming on him contributed to the sweat that began to drip from his temples. Singing along, he stomped his feet and cried out into the mic.

“ _And I say, HEEEEY EY EY EEE EY! WHAT’S GOING ON?”_

Ron beamed, half expecting the crowd to sing Weasley is our King. What he was surprised by were the cheers that erupted as the final beat closed out. The wolf whistling made him laugh; as he was about to swagger back to the booth except that people were shouting, “More!” and “Encore!”

He spoke into the mic, “I want my mate Harry Potter to join me on the stage!”

Harry’s laugh was wiped off his face as Seamus and George pushed him off the booth and the crowd aided in getting him up. The next song came on, and Harry took the mic. He felt slightly more clear-headed than before he had been called. Neville went up to hand him and Ron another shot for liquid courage. The song started up with a faster rhythm and drums beating. Eventually some chanting began as well, and it was easy for the crowd to pick up and clap along. Over at their booth, none remained seated. People were shuffling up to get closer to the stage. A mystic sound came that elevated the atmosphere to a feeling of mischief. No words appeared on the screen yet, but the mood was set for everyone, chanting to the beat.

“ _There lived a certain man in Russia long ago,”_ sang Ron.

“ _He was big and strong and his eyes a flaming glow,”_ Harry followed awkwardly.

They got into the rhythm and their voices began crying out in staccato to the words. Harry loosened up as much Ron. He was laughing and lifting up the crowd’s atmosphere. Soon the room was jumping up and down. Ron linked his arm with Harry’s and began dancing in circles around the stage. The song ended and once more cheers erupted. The heat flushed Ron’s face and Harry had to push his glasses back up as they had slipped down his nose. The energy in the contained space was as if a bomb of Weasleys’ Wildfire Whiz-bangs had been let out. Despite the groans from the crowd as they descended, Ron knew he needed a break. His vocal cords could not handle another song without a few more drinks. His side cramped with a stitch and his exhilarated breath tried to stabilize his heart and the rush he’d felt.

Making their way back to the booth while a ballad played, he and Harry were greeted with pats on the shoulders.

“That was bloody brilliant!” congratulated George.

“Who would have known we have our own Celestina Warbeck in the family,” laughed Charlie.

Seamus brought over more drinks and they all cheered once more and downed them. They were all worse for wear. The drinking didn’t cease, and no one remembered the point where their intoxication had crossed the threshold. All cares and worries were shoved aside. Neville was talking to a pretty girl in a spunky skirt who kept batting her eyelashes at him. When one of her friends had approached Ron, Harry had stepped in and directed her attention to George. Ron beamed at his best mate, who despite his inebriated state, was protecting him (and himself) from the wrath of Hermione and Ginny who would undoubtedly be furious if any girl flirted with Ron and Harry didn’t stop it.

“Fuck,” cursed Harry, looking at his watch, “We need to go to the Three Broomsticks!”

“One more, come on!” Ron rushed to the stage for the final time of the night. He beckoned the others who happily staggered after him. There weren’t enough mics for all of them, but it didn’t matter. They linked their arms around each other’s shoulders for support, forming a line and swaying to the sides. There was no more singing but yelling instead and no such thing as pitch. Yet, the crowd didn’t mind. They were glad to see the redhead once more and his friends take the stage. There was a charisma that radiated and brought warmth to the crowd.

It was hard to guess which one of the men on the stage was the most drunk. Percy showed up as they belted out the words with fierce emotion, particularly his youngest brother. He was only glad he had at least made it to witness this and was glad he had a camera to capture the moment which would fuel stories to tell.

“ _THERE’S NOOOOOO WHERE TO HIDEEEEE…”_

“ _SINCE YOU PUSHED MY LOVE ASIDDEEEEE…_ ”

“ _I’M OUUUUUT OF MY HEAAAAAD…”_

“ _HOPELESSLY DEVOTED TO YOUUUUU!_ ”

“I love you My-knee!” cried Ron.

“HE’S GETTING MARRIED TOMORROW!” yelled Harry.

If Hermione knew that Ron and the others were singing karaoke in a muggle pub, she would have thought they were pulling her leg. She would have thought someone had put Ron under the imperius curse. She would never have imagined her fiancé being the lead and most successful singer the Lady Luck had seen. Ron smiled to himself thinking back to her. He wasn’t sure what he would remember tomorrow but wanted to tell her all about it. Maybe they could come back together! Hermione doing car-oh-key, that was something he wanted to see. They would have the rest of their lives to have these experiences, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's actually a playlist I made up for this, but Ron sings the following:  
> What's Up? by 4 Non Blondes,  
> Rasputin – 7" Version by Boney M, and  
> Hopelessly Devoted to You (from Grease) by Olivia Newton John.  
> I also want to say I was inspired by a charlottewoolrych_cosplay (on Instagram) who did a "Gryffindor Common room" vibes.


	3. Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this, and I hope I channelled that in this story. Thank you for reading!

“Percy!” bellowed Ron, spotting his brother and greeting him with a wide grin. Ron could hardly stand and swayed despite the lack of music playing. It dawned on Percy that he was now responsible for getting eight grown and very drunk wizards to the Three Broomsticks. Although it would be a task worthy of the Triwizard Tournament, it did not daunt him, as he enjoyed the blubbering fools they were making of themselves.

“Come on, the lot of you,” Percy was trying to round them up outside, “Neville, say goodbye to the girl now!”

“Bill, you can carry Charlie,” he instructed.

Once they were all in place and no muggles were in sight, Percy side-along Apparated them to Hogsmeade. Ron fell to his knees and spewed. Apparating whilst intoxicated should be outlawed, he thought. He looked up to see the others, whose complexions had turned green, and smiles been replaced by grimaces. Harry was clutching his knees and heaving. Ron rounded on Percy who had a smug look on his face. “Prat,” he muttered. The apparition had definitely propelled a slight recovery from their overindulgence of alcohol.

“Come on, Madam Rosmerta should have our rooms ready,” Percy led them all to the pub and ushered them in. Madam Rosmerta was indeed waiting for them, and as she had not expected them to show up so intoxicated already, had a round of firewhiskey waiting at the bar. Though Percy was about to politely decline the drink, Ron pushed past him and gulped down the burning beverage.

“Thank you, Madam Rosmerta!” Ron had already forgotten he’d been sick only a few moments before, “We’ll also take a round of butterbeers! You know, we had _muggle_ alcohol today! Maybe they make it much stronger so they _feel_ like they can do magic!”

George, who had unfortunately taken a swig of his butterbeer, sputtered it out. Charlie and Bill looked at each other and smirked. Dean and Seamus still had their arms over each other’s shoulders and were mumbling the half-forgotten lyrics from their earlier duet. Harry nodded in agreement. Neville was slumped on a chair, snoring. As Percy looked around at their state, he met Madam Rosmerta’s eyes who tried to hide her chuckle behind her hand.

“Er, Madam Rosmerta, I think we ought to get them to their rooms now.”

Percy grudgingly fought with George, Dean and Seamus that it was time to get some rest, but they kept summoning the firewhiskey bottle in turns and taking swigs. Charlie and Bill had gone up perhaps because of their previous drunken experiences and knew they’d be better off getting some sleep. All Madam Rosmerta had to do was levitate Neville, who was soundly snoring. During this commotion, Ron rounded on Harry.

“Haarryy, let’s see My-knee!” He cried. Ron took off into the night, making his way up to the castle grounds as Harry tried to keep up, stumbling after him.

“Why’d Hermione be at Hog-warts?” Harry hiccupped as he racked his brains.

“The library, duh” Ron rolled his eyes at Harry.

“HERMIONE!”

Ron didn’t remember the walk from Hogsmeade taking so long, nor the path being so windy. The ground was certainly more uneven as he tripped repeatedly over his feet. Eventually, he grabbed onto Harry and together they stumbled up to the castle, the moon shining brightly over it as a thin mist spread over.

“I’m gonna ask Ginny to marry me!” Harry blurted out.

Ron turned to look at Harry, sheepishly smiled and said, “Harry, you’re gonna be my brother! But don’t EVER let me walk in on you. Or I might just kill myself.”

Ron picked up the song he’d sang at Lady Luck and Harry joined him in the chorus. When they saw the main entrance was closed, they weren’t deterred. Instead, they made their way around the outside walls, holding onto each other for support and belting out to serenade the poor students in Gryffindor tower.

“ _I’M HOPELESSLY DEVOTEEEED TO YOUUU_ ”

“WEASLEY! POTTER! What in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing waking up the castle at this time?!” Professor McGonagall had emerged in her nightgown. Harry cringed at how thin the lines of her mouth were, and he worried she was about to take off points for Gryffindor while Ron looked utterly unfazed.

“Hi Professssor,” slurred Ron nonchalantly, “I love My-knee and I’m here to tell her!”

A small smile crept on Professor McGonagall’s face that disappeared as if it had never been there.

“I think, Mr. Weasley,” She began sternly, “That you should be on your way to bed. Ms. Granger will expect you to be on time tomorrow.”

With a flick of her wand, she magicked a couple of goblets which Ron and Harry automatically reached took and drank. It was warm, but not the burning sensation the alcohol had, instead it was like honey. When he’d finished his drink, Ron hiccupped, feeling a light cloud lift from his mind and became more clear-headed since beginning the night’s festivities.

“There you are! Where have you been you bloody – oh,” Percy came stopped abruptly upon realizing the headmistress was out due to his brother’s drunken antics.

“Mr. Weasley, I trust you can take care of these two and ensure they go to bed.”

“Of course, Professor,” nodded Percy awkwardly. He bid Professor McGonagall good night and took Ron and Harry by the arms, trotting down to Hogsmeade. The drinks she’d conjured for Ron and Harry had calmed them down and restored some sobriety. Ron didn’t feel like talking anymore, he was just happy that each minute he was closer to being married to Hermione. She would be his wife. When they reached the Three Broomsticks, Harry and Ron went up to the room they’d be sharing and got into their respective beds. They didn’t immediately go to sleep, each occupied with their own thoughts.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“You know it’s no problem. George really did most of it.”

“No, thank you for… well everything. I don’t know if Hermione and I would have ever become friends if it weren’t for you. You were the one who wanted to look for her and warn her about the troll in first year,” Ron reminisced back to when he’d called Hermione a nightmare and the events that had played out subsequently.

“Ron, you and Hermione would have eventually gotten together. Honestly, if the bickering wasn’t a clue, then I have no idea what was. You two have always belonged to each other.”

With that looping through his brain, Ron slipped into sleep where he dreamed of his future with Hermione. It seemed as if he had just shut his eyes when he was awoken by Harry shuffling about the room, getting dressed. Ron blinked slowly, his eyelids fighting to stay closed. His mouth felt thick as he tried to swallow and relieve the dryness in his throat.

“Oh good, you’re up!” said Harry, “take some pumpkin juice. Bill added some sort of tonic to it to help with the hangover. I’m feeling loads better already.”

Ron sat up, recalling episodes from last night. His stomach clenched, but it wasn’t because of the hangover. Today was it.

Reading Ron’s face, Harry grinned, “You’re getting married in a few hours.”

As suddenly as his stomach had tightened, Ron breathed as if for the first time taking in air. He straightened up, looked at Harry and returned a grin. He felt the resolve he needed because he was going to see Hermione, and she’d be his bride, and she would be his wife, and all the insecurities and worries he’d ever had about their future faded away.

“Finally.”


End file.
